Long Distortion Poems
Long Distortion Poems. Below are the most popular long Distortion by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Distortion poems by poem length and keyword.
Let go - and fly
Every morning Rising Like Displaced ether
Merging into the miracle of life
Such grandeur I cannot guess
Why We are blessed this way
To wake not once,, But twice.
First with life Then, with a truth that hearts
would perish for. Oh! To be so blessed,
Who but God, Is worthy such a view,
To drink from hands that are cupped
watch from the bank of every river.
as the worst prisons are being built
- words that have No meaning.
We wrap ourselves in the languages of mannequins
each of us left alone to meet ourselves at night
apologizing to an afternoon of naps;
sips of purified water, spilling vitamins in laps.
although sincere in atonements,
The bill, for every cell we kill
Will surely still come due.
eight or eighty, or in-between
soreness oozes through our written words
binding us into prayers
what do we know of honesty;
We know what we are told to know
by those who would have us believe
they are more real than we.
ghosts of the atmospheres
Never dreaming the sheets
of their purpose blow so freely in the wind
Where every noble butterfly
remains securely pinned
to be seen from our neighbors eye
or perhaps between the blinking of our own
Implanting us all with the boldest of lies
That even the newest of eyes cannot tell
from all the lies pouring down our well.
energy, the newest form of hatred
radiating outward to defend each fear
we cannot tend or prove what we hold dear
In the fierce forest of darkness and farce,
Where envelopes mailed, too slowly arrive.
My God, are we pretending
we’re alive.
We give thanks...for what...do you know...you don’t
remember cause if you did you might not be giving thanks
in the way of this celebration...cloaked in lies, wanton
stories believed not heard above the heads of those
throwing frisbies of distortion or surfing the waves of
transplanted thoughts...a bit sandy perhaps...gulped down like
a cheap tall icy of thrill going into the gut of denial...bees live
for flowers of color...what do you live for? do you know?
would you remember if you told yourself softly again
as you have a million times...yet you forget again
what stops this a-wakening from our burdensome sleep of lies
the pace keeps orbits moving like the planets heavy
ranging of the skies...procession is perhaps our call as well
not waking up in time out of this dream...will we or won’t we?
Funhouse Distortion
by Odin Roark
I once stood proudly
Beside the giants
Whose distorted rule
Still fosters garish giggles
Occasional oohs and ahs
Other reflections
Render bodies will-o'-the-wisp acceptable
Bringing fun lovers to a halt
Finding such representation pacifying
Given failed diet regimens
How frightening I have become
For many rushing past
Even as my wave of semblance
Cracked by diagonal accident
Allows any undulating split personality
To see itself
Perhaps for the first
And...
Last time
Before me
A gangly girl pauses
Stares at reflection
Her tilted head separated from body
I empathize with mute understanding
If only I could speak
You can lean against my shoulder
It's okay. It's okay.
Outside
The exit fat lady automaton
Jeers with laughter
Life is dynamic and constantly changing
Any thinking or verbal speculation about life
even with regard to the future
is always based on the past
One may have an immediate awareness
beyond thought or verbal speculation
of one's existence
but one cannot have direct contact
with one's immediate existence
through thought
Words are useful in the attempt
to communicate one's experience
to another person
but the use of words is merely an attempt
to point to experience
It can never give that immediate
direct knowledge, insight or realization
that comes from one's experience
Words are like a map
and experience is the territory
A map can only give knowledge
"about" the territory
It can never give knowledge
"of" the territory
This can only be obtained
through direct experience
When one considers growth and decay
as a continuous ongoing process
of which human existence is a mere iota
one realizes that there is an inexorable movement
which encompasses everything that "is"
including human existence
which is a relatively recent phenomenon
on the cosmic time scale
One realizes the ethnocentricity
or more specifically the "homocentricity"
of the claim that human conceptualizations
are capable of knowing things as they "are"
This applies whether the claim is that of
science, religion or
any other system of thought
When one examines the way
the different lifeforms are interrelated
one realizes the distortion created by thought
when one attempts to isolate
and elevate one lifeform
particularly the human lifeform
apart from the others
The body has an intelligence of its own
which manifests itself
when thought ceases its attempt
to know life
It is a direct realization
beyond thought
There is a fundamental unity
of everything that "is"
and Love is a manifestation
at the behavioural level
of this unity
I AM as I AM, free & formless in a domain timeless
In, as & one with & within the sea of Oneness
Dissolved and yet in as ordained, distinct
Pure love awareness in a boundaryless precinct
In, within and in yet as by Oneness ordained
The beingness of love seeking outpouring, now contained
Choicelessly choosing to view Its reflection
In the mirror of duality without any distortion
As so chosen, so began, love benign-ability
Polarity in singularity
Creating sensory movement in duality
Spherical vision confined to timeline linearity
The love absolute
Choicelessly resolute
Now within a living body of perfection
Matter manifest as divine vibration
The pure love outpouring
Within body of lower vibration anchoring
Prismatic refraction of ephemerality bemusing
Anchors of grossness to the vehicle of form alluring
Love then, looking at its reflection
Within in-form consciousness, seeing a contortion
Observes that the transient life of the vehicle of imagination
Within duality, is oblivious of its own divinic origin
Linear time then slowly turns
Hypnotically, inexorably churns
The wheel of illusion
Trapping consciousness in mayic delusion
Love being love, yet outpours its nectar
Dispersing magnetically across all vectors
But duality being the zone so choicelessly chosen
The same free will of consciousness keeps its ascension frozen
Yet love being one and consciousness being porous
In timeless time nodes within form, all being love, sing in chorus
Engage in a rhythmic dance synchronous in timeless being-ness
As of resonation to the vibration of the That Oneness
In, within, in-form & formless stillness
...it is impossible for God to lie, we who have taken refuge
would have strong encouragement to hold firmly
to the hope set before us."
Hebrews 6:18
Some parents fortify, supporting kids
to stay on top when testing waters’ depth.
Great expectations end, ev’n enemies,
are God's Supply, the wind and weight of wings.
A worthy teacher who embraces life
communicates those skills which stay the storms
for fledgling sailors, novice on their course.
God’s Sacred Scriptures lend sound teaching scope.
A mentor stands as aide to steady growth
during distortion from doubting deckhands.
Wise lessons bear resolve for hasty choice
when God's own Spirit is the mainstay - truth.
An anchor is one worthy of belief,
whose balance holds the navigator’s trust-
that hope - guardsmen put in their Savior’s hand
God's Son, my Anchor, yea my Cornerstone.
Daddy's specter plectrums mercilessly
Fraying my nerves raw
with oxidized guitar strings.
my thoughts relentlessly hemorrhage
onto clay vinyl grooves
s p i n n i n g
endless nights
of
suffocation.
a midnight jazz wail
lacerates
the void of your absence.
notes gnaw through bone marrow
ravenous maggots
in the corpse
of our love.
Chords violently crash
splintering my fractured vertebrae
a car wreck
in slow motion.
plucking
the frayed synapses
of my misfiring
modal limbic brain.
feel the searing electric distortion
static fuzz of madness
surge through
morrow's marrow
my moanin'
a primal scream
at the Eve of Destruction
trapped in a skipping groove
of creation
shattering guitars
and blasting kneecaps
in an empty cathedral
of resounding sound
Our touch
a violent crescendo
of needles and poisoned honey
pain swollen sweet
as a mother's milk
laced with a junkie's fix
on a stillborn birthday morn
each note
a razor-sharp reflection
etched in stretch-marked
scar tissue
of the agony that throbs
within this moog menagerie
of fractured femininity
set
Between the sets
of our shattered chords
a single note lingers- soft
almost tender-
like a child's last breath
before the
final
f i n a l e
Silence crawls
a venomous asp
a deafening absence
louder than stacked amps
of patriarchy
reverberating in the hollow spaces
between drumming heartbeats
where your persecuting promises
used to nest and breed
I am the discarded B-side
of the one-hit wonder
rising from dumpster-filled
lungs of domesticity
reborn
in the Electric Avenue
of my own making
singing
Billie's bruises
Muddy's floods and
Johnson's hellhounds
to the ghosts
of futures stillborn
in this Rhapsody
of beautiful
destruction
Moon-faced and sickle-smiled
I conduct this orchestrated
Savage band of ruin
my voiceless voice
a lightning rod
splitting the sky
of expectations
as I agonizingly birth myself anew
in the RCA Victor Rhapsody of Blue
of Beautiful
reconstruction
P e r h a p s…
a new refrain
Absorbed in Guernica’s promise Lucifer glanced at Montmatre
Settled his mind on virgins in heaven as Mona Lisa smiled on
One Last Supper tied to a suicide belt he set out to light the church
Of Our Lady and mounted Chagall’s Blue Horse towards The Scream
It was a Starry Night and he wondered how they painted in paradise
Oozing of promise he bandaged his lughole as a quiet reminder that
He had once been tied in desperate love to a Girl with a Pearl Ear Ring
Saw clearly the arc in his tearful eye which was one of glorious triumph
While he remembered Klimt’s Kiss The Birth of Venus fled the scene
On his way from the Louvre to book stalls at the banks of the Seine
He wondered whether a volume of so called degenerate art might be
A fitting companion on his irreversible passage to Death and the Maiden
Noble at heart in his mind he planted dynamite at the foot of Tour Eiffel
Well aware that triangulation was the strongest form of resilient bonds
By coincidence or synchronicity a Blue Dove flew onto his shoulder and
Reminded him of Goya’s dark paintings which suggested kindly to him that
The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters and devastating devils of which
He was one if he followed fanaticism’s religious distortion on his way to hell
15th January 2020
-------------
Level and Steady
------------------
-Pedal Point Harmony
------------------------
By:Palette Gimbal
The photo would be perfect
something that satifies
the soul. beautifu lEnvironmental Portraiture
one decribed the doings.
rich textures to leather saddles and dusty trails
tilting the camera or drone nose up and down
on the vertical axis to get that perfect
golden hour photo
the low sun light of morning or evening
to satisfy the eyes, my objective is to avoid
curved lines in my image fisheye distortion
are what I am looking to acheive here
All these will be done in first person veiw
than I'll have photos made to capture that perfect image
of a beautiful place these folks
call theres.
Pitch: Tilting the camera or drone nose up and down on the vertical axi
I’m hurting inside with such misery
feeling like death at times
dismissive falling to my knees
Trying so hard to make you happy with love and reflection
dreams now shattered
can’t understand these thoughts inside me
Distortion is fogging my inner complexion
Time seems blissful with every interaction
You think you can buy my love that I hold
relationship ended my love won’t be sold
All I ask for is a simple hello
hurtful responses emitting pain in my soul
Do I still feel the passion as when we first met?
Inept remembrance in that secrecy our love kept
This destructive relationship hurts me so so deep
Never before have I been this oblique
Transgressions aside you know I’ll stay true
Remember that time when I looked in your eyes
exchanging our vows as making promises to you
All that is over now as if it never happened
Our lives were one with love and devotion
now they are nothing
as water ebbs from the ocean
I’m not knowing what to do
can’t hide my emotions
I suppose with time you and I will heal
except with someone else
which will be the second time someone kneeled
Thanks for your grace
your willingness to be true
always remember
that I am always here for you
Be safe in your passage looking up into the night
if you ever need me my dear
I will be there despite
Be safe Be true be everything that makes you be you
One day another will recognize
everything as the things you dream too